


the enemy is at honno-ji

by ashforge



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/F, Female!Fujimaru Ritsuka, Fluff, Historical References, Nobunaga is also a jealous jealous creature, Oda Nobunaga is a Power Bottom, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-16 07:18:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11823840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashforge/pseuds/ashforge
Summary: When the men summoned to Fujimaru’s side flashed her those confident smiles and those honest flirtations, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.  When Nobunaga did the same thing, it haddifferent meanings.  She was unsure if Fujimaru understood her forwardness as genuine.  She was unsure why she even cared.





	1. the enemy is at honno-ji

**i.**

She hadn’t really given it much thought when she was summoned. She wasn’t the first one Fujimaru Ritsuka summoned, nor would she be the last. The face that met her was summery and vigorous; pretty and feminine – not unlike many vassals she met in her lifetime. Except this time it was her “Master.” The woman didn’t look old enough to carry such a title, but Nobunaga knew more than anyone, life never gave you much of a choice.

They talked a bit. Nothing too deep or meaningful, she thought anyway. Fujimaru was Japanese, and asked her questions about her life. Things Nobunaga was more than happy to indulge in. She has never regretted her life, never thought she made some grave mistake that she needed to redeem. She wasn’t like the cool Artoria, or the chatty Lancer. She wanted the holy grail for fun, to do something no one else had done. She wasn’t hunting for an answer to her life of problems.

The more she watched Fujimaru, the more she came to find her company enjoyable. Sometimes, her eyes lit up in a way that reminded her so closely of home. The way that monkey would get excited about any assignment she gave him. The way Takechiyo eagerly awaited her in the sumo ring as children. The way Kicho would look when she returned home from battle. The way Kitsuno’s eyelashes fluttered when she entered the room. With the passing days, Nobunaga began associating her with women rather than men. Lovers, and not vassals.

Nobunaga often wondered why that was. She was hardly quiet about her sexuality, unashamed of her life of sex and conquest. But it had a different meaning here. When the men summoned to Fujimaru’s side flashed her those confident smiles and those honest flirtations, she couldn’t help but feel a little jealous. When Nobunaga did the same thing, it had _different meanings_. She was unsure if Fujimaru understood her forwardness as genuine. She was unsure why she even cared.

She was the damned Devil King of the Sixth Heaven, self proclaimed at that. If she wanted a woman, she could have her. It was doubtful Fujimaru could overpower her with objections if she made an effort to take her. She was just a normal human, or magus, with normal strength. Besides, she should feel quite lucky that a person as important as her would take an interest. Nobunaga had that thought in her head before. She watched as Fujimaru dodged the questions and smiles with ease and when she turned her head, their eyes locked for but a moment.

Nobunaga was many things, and she was aware that delusional was one of them. It meant nothing. Conquering her Master would not satiate her. It was just another whim of hers, she had many. They came and went and this one would do so as well.

So she found a hobby. At least, that’s what that other Archer in red had called it. The world had progressed so much since she had been alive. She knew that much by changing her clothing to suit her needs. Nobunaga, however, was more preoccupied with other things. Television, gaming consoles, music, tea – the whole globe had opened up and allowed for genuine and real progress. When they allowed her to search the internet, she almost didn’t sleep, going to page after page.

“Oh, Archer,” Fujimaru opened up the door to her quarters, seeing Nobunaga standing there waiting patiently. “Come in, I’ll start up the game.”

Only Fujimaru’s room seemed to have a psx, which meant she must have brought it from home. Other people would’ve questioned her priorities, but Nobunaga seemed fairly satisfied with it. The machine was sleek, and black, and according to Fujimaru it ran at a good 4k piyos or something. She didn’t have a lot of games, she said, but this one was enough. It was an American game of some kind, where you play as a fictitious soldier in an old war. The goal changed per map, and you handled various types of firearms to reach victory.

It’s not as good without other people, she said once. So I’ll play with you.

It was a fictional gun, but it Fujimaru was far more talented at it than Nobunaga expected. At first, it seemed as though she was cheating, stealing kills and advancing the mission faster than she could keep up with. It was fun though. Maybe it was also fun because they were together, doing something Nobunaga was familiar with. War. Despite the learning curve, Nobunaga caught up with ease, and by now, the two of them struggled for dominance on the field.

“Oh!” She leaned into her knees, getting closer to the screen. “This is it! My Okehazama! A pitiful lord like you won’t stop me this time!”

Fujimaru leaned back in response, drawing the controller to her chin. “Try again, Otsuke! This battlefield is mine!”

Nobunaga crushed her with the final numbers, confident and proud of her victory. When she turned to gloat, she found herself caught in her tracks. Fujimaru had fixed her eyes on her. There was an intimacy that suddenly felt very frightening. Not again, she wanted to tell herself. As if she were afraid of her own faults.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’ll assume you want to be my woman.” Nobunaga does not fear her mistakes or her life. That was what she told herself. What happens, happens. There is nothing that can be helped about it.

“Stu–pid, maybe that’s why I’m looking at you like that.” Fujimaru replied defying any expectation Nobunaga had. Her clever smile was accented by the fake light, and her sunset hair seemed to frame her just right. Ritsuka was unlike any woman she had fallen for before.

She leaned in, and it was slow. Not mournful like with Kicho, not hasty like with Saka, and not consuming like with Kitsuno. They kissed and it felt like they had been waiting too long to do it. The experiences with women that Nobunaga had were not invalidated in any way, but rather enhanced. Like being up against Ritsuka had fulfilled her in a way she had not anticipated. As she slowly attempted to open her Master’s mouth to deepen the kiss, Ritsuka had begun to chuckle.

“You smell like tea and gunpowder.” She said reaching her hands over Nobunaga’s shoulders. One took off her hat and set it aside. All the while, Nobunaga herself inched forward, pressing her hands against the ground beside the cushion Ritsuka was sitting on.

“Do you like it? I’ll be gracious and let you memorize it.”

Her Master’s back was against the floor, and Nobunaga is all hands. She had done this before. More than once, with different women. By the time she got to Saka, she was tired of it – tired of dealing with the ramifications of producing offspring via her Demon King self. But that had been a long time ago. Now, beneath her fingers was a woman who had attached herself to her for no reason. No gain, no motive. Nobunaga was known to freely indulge and do it fiercely.

This time, she kept her hands above the clothes. Her tongue had found purchase in Ritsuka’s mouth, and her Master managed to get her fingers in her hair. Nobunaga felt almost inclined to make a comment on the mess she was making, but she was preoccupied in both mouth and hands. She had long ditched her gloves before playing games, and she was glad for it. The fabric of Ritsuka’s uniform was thick and sturdy, yet that only made it more exciting when she located a firm nipple. Sucking in Ritsuka’s lips between her teeth, Nobunaga rolled her hardened nipple in her palm, pinching it for good measure.

“A–hh.” A sigh of contentment escaped her Master. She raised a leg and hooked it over Nobunaga’s hip, and with noticeable force, pulled her closer.

Yet, even now, Nobunaga did not feel rushed. She didn’t feel miserable or hateful. Like she had to do something, anything, to keep blindly rushing forward.

“Do you think you’ll remember it, even if I leave?” She whispered patronizingly. “My smell, my taste. I’ve chosen you. You’ll belong to me now.”

“As if that wasn’t already true,” Ritsuka replied, pressing her hands against Nobunaga’s cheeks. “And you’ll only look at me.”

**ii.**

She held her attentions like that. Knowing smiles on the battlefield, heated touches in the privacy of her room. It had been a long time since Nobunaga desired to take things at such a pace. When she was a warlord, it was indulgence after indulgence and even now, she had no regrets doing so. But this time was – different. It was a hunt. Even though she knew she would win, she wanted to savor the taste.

Sometimes, Ritsuka would pull her gloves off, and allow her hands to travel beneath her shirt. She would leave heated trails up her stomach, light bruises on her breasts. Sometimes, Nobunaga would let her do the same thing. It was harder to hurt the flesh of a Servant, but the aggression her Master held was something fascinating. Something, she repeated, to be savored.

Still, Nobunaga had old feelings. Old habits. Old opinions.

They had been in the singularity for hours. Six Servants, One Master. Shielder, Saber, Berserker, Caster, Lancer and herself. Ritsuka had been at this for a time now, and lacked the foolishness to charge ahead blindly. She kept Shielder at her side for the most part, something that Nobunaga had begun to begrudge. Mash couldn’t hide her infatuation with her Master, and Nobunaga was inclined to call herself the jealous type. She had a right to her belongings.

“Regroup,” Ritsuka ordered, and Nobunaga couldn’t help but remark that this commanding persona was quite erotic. “Mash, on me. We’re going to pincer this. Artoria, Kintoki, and Diarmuid. We’re going to draw their fire this direction. Cu, Nobunaga. East-West position. We draw, you fire.” It was a simple enough plan. With the right firepower, it would work.

And since she was there, there would always be enough firepower. Ritsuka took to the front lines, deciding that the three pointmen would need her assistance more than the flankers. A good general always leads the army, after all, and there was no room for argument on that front. She had been a general before. It was no easy task to judge the ebb and flow of battle.

With a potent forward force, the assault started off well. That King Arthur was plenty powerful to stand against an army herself, with the assistance of a legendary Japanese warrior and an Irish hero, they probably didn’t even need Mash hovering over Ritsuka’s shoulder. It was when the second wave happened that she lifted her hand up in the air, signaling her ranged troops to begin the assault. Fire and lead rained upon her foes, and it was times like this that Nobunaga was thankful that the tanegashima which was summoned to her side did not take the usual time to reload.

And it still felt like the ones she remembered. The recoil was just right, as if it was timed with the beating of her heart. It kicked against her chest in the right way. There was nothing like it in the world. Only after she satisfied her trigger finger did she care to pay attention to the battle. The pincer plan seemed like a good one, especially against unintelligent enemies. Once the smoke from the barrel faded, she observed the field.

“–What?”

An enemy Servant had entered the fray, taking the attention of Ritsuka’s front lines. But something felt different. She lined up the barrel of her rifle, hoping a long look down the sights would give her better clarity. Kintoki swung his ax down, cleaving the enemy Rider in two. There was a moment where the noise was deafening. She could hear voices. There was shouting, definitely from Ritsuka. She turned to Nobunaga and their eyes met for a moment.

All of her hair stood on end. The crackle of energy distracted her. Diarmuid drug his spears through the ground, far away from where he should’ve been on the frontlines.

For a moment, it shook her. A feeling so familiar it made her nauseous. She took her sword in her hand. Was she destined for another betrayal so soon? Her brother, her closest vassals, her sister’s husband. Her trusted retainer. So many more than that. She always said it couldn’t be helped, because she was a Demon King and evil was the territory. But she would be a liar to say it didn’t hurt.

They engaged in a skirmish. If he gave her even a seconds preparation, Nobunaga could overpower him easily. His deep connection to the Irish gods and to the fairies would prove to be his anathema against her, but she needed the chance to use it. She weaved, scraping here and there against the legendary spears. A close range battle was not ideal for her. Especially when her mind was in a haze. No, she didn’t let these things wound her heart anymore. Not after Nagamasa.

But it made her judgment cloudy.

“What’s the matter?” She let herself ramble, hoping her words would give her the clarity to strike back. “Did our Master have a change of heart? C’mon, it’ll take more than one pathetic attempt on my life to stop me!”

It was only then did she realize that Diarmuid had not spoken the entire time. That his eyes were hazy, and not even aware of his surroundings. That the scramble in the field was not because of interior conflict but because of the looming threat of an Assassin. Nobunaga clicked her tongue, feeling ever more foolish by the second. If there was an Assassin to worry about, where was her Master?

But every time she tried to tear her eyes away from her enemy, he brought another untiring wave. It was too incomplete to be threatening. Like a child copying motions without knowing the purpose of them. But it was fast enough to keep her from being comfortable. Worse yet, the mobs of monsters had begun resurfacing. “– Damn it, Ritsuka…!”

The charmed Diarmuid seized up on command, and his body immediately began to dissipate. All that remained of him was fragments of gold light. Behind him, her Master stood with her hand aloft. The Command Seal on her hand had lost a rung, and she stood as solid as a tree. Covered in bruises and cuts, bite marks and punctures, Ritsuka looked glamourous and wild. Her eyes were trained on her Archer.

“I dismissed him.” Ritsuka said easily closing the distance between them. “He was the only one who got hit by that.” Blood had already run into her eye, making her keep it shut. The fabric of her uniform was torn and stained. Yet when she took Nobunaga’s hands, she trained her focus into a simple healing spell.

“I didn’t even notice he had left until Cu disappeared from the lineup.” There was an irritated strain in her voice, like she fought to open her jaws at all from grinding them tight. She looked up from Nobunaga’s hands and reached to her face, pressing her thumb lightly where her healing magic could not finish.

What was she even feeling now, Nobunaga wondered. Relief? Anxiety? Disappointment? Lust? All these things seemed to whirlwind in the center of her chest. What did she _want_ to feel? She had always let herself do whatever she desired. She leaned in to kiss away that irritated look on Ritsuka’s face.

“Master, the Assassin has been dealt with. Readings say that the mission has been a success, we can return to Chaldea now.” Artoria’s voice interrupted them. Damn that King of Knights. She shot a dirty look in the direction of the holoscreen which came up. Her Master, who had been standing strong, replied confidently and ended the message. Only then did it seem like the gaping wounds on her body have any effect on her.

Her hands grasped the sides of Nobunaga’s shirt and she leaned in on her. Her body was hot, and sticky with blood. “A–h, I was so worried.” She mumbled.

Nobunaga clicked her tongue. “You shouldn’t worry about devils so much.” She did her best to capture the haughty tone she was known for. “Besides, a mysterious creature like that guy? The second he let his guard down, I’d have obliterated him in a second. I am the enemy to Buddhism and all religion after all.”

The transfer had been going through as she talked, and only half way through did she know that the pain had rendered Ritsuka deaf to her words.

After being hospitalized and treated for a few days, Fujimaru Ritsuka was subjected to an onslaught of lectures. From the very top with Marie, to the number of Servants who had also fallen for her charms. Mash was surprisingly vocal about the whole thing. Upset that she had been reassigned to Artoria for hunting the Assassin, she allowed Ritsuka to sustain damage even before she had the realization that Diarmuid was on the hunt for his allies. Bedridden with no chance of escape, she had to suffer through all of it.

Nobunaga came in and out, not to be undone by the myriad of worried supporters. Unlike the rest of them, she came to chat as usual. The new world beyond her death, and what it was like. How things had improved and differed. To try and punish Ritsuka for her behavior would be foolish, she thought. Because she could see herself doing something so flamboyant and self motivated too.

It was awhile before Dr Archaman allowed Ritsuka to move freely. A while longer before she was allowed to stay in her own room. No missions until the wounds completely close, he said with an unusual sternness. No one would argue his decision, especially not Ritsuka herself. Many of the stitches had been removed, but she was a human magus, and her body was fragile. Besides, she said at one point, it’s like being on a vacation with everyone. No one liked that idea though.

By then, though, Nobunaga was starting to feel starved. Since their first moment of passion, they had been doing it on a regular basis before the mission. After the mission, it had dropped to almost zero. Almost, only meaning that they exchanged kisses at the bedside. She had once tried sneaking a hand under Ritsuka’s shirt only to be caught by Archaman and scolded profusely. Normally she didn’t give a damn what he or anyone else would think, but when she went back, Ritsuka winced noticeably.

Damn.

But now, she had permission. Kind of. If Ritsuka was able to do daily things, then surely, that meant a little bit more than just moving about Chaldea. She arrived at her bedroom mid afternoon, and was welcomed graciously. She had not even stepped completely into the room before they began furiously making out. With expert timing, they took steps into the privacy of the room and shut the door without even separating. It was satisfying to know that Ritsuka had the same thirst in her, not hesitating to drag her hands up the front of Nobunaga’s uniform to unbutton it.

“Aren’t you eager?” She teased, running a hand through Ritsuka’s orange hair.

Undoing the jacket all together, Ritsuka leaned in and buried her teeth onto Nobunaga’s collarbone. “I’ve been very patient,” she murmured into the flesh, pulling off her red coat and setting it aside. Her tongue snaked up to Nobunaga’s jaw, and she reached up to remove her hat.

“What’s wrong with my hat? You always take it off.” She continued to tease, running her hands now freely against her Master’s back.

“It’s in the way.”

Exposed from the neck down to her waist, Nobunaga drug her nails up Ritsuka’s sides to her cheeks. With a little effort, she forced her Master back into a kiss. It was hot, eager – a flavor she had known so many times, yet yearned for it all the same. With Kicho, it wore off quickly. Kitsuno grew to hate the flavor of Nobunaga’s kisses. Saka, who once enjoyed it, came to tremble in fear when they touched. Ritsuka kept kissing her, and biting her, and craving her like she would never taste it again.

After a moment, her Master pulled away with a roll of her hips. As if she were trying to seduce Nobunaga anymore, her hands slid to the belt on her plain cotton yukata. With a gentle pull, the front opened up. “I have been waiting for you, my Lord.” She said, and it was so very much rehearsed that her lover couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’s with that?” Nobunaga said, mid-chuckle. “ _Tono_? What is this, a drama?”

Ritsuka pouted, shrugging the shoulders of the yukata off so that it bunched at her elbows. “I was thinking you might enjoy some role play, but I guess not. You’re always so taciturn!”

Archer grinned, as if that were a compliment. She slid her hands against Ritsuka’s sides and gently pulled the yukata loose and to the floor. “I already lived being a very successful warlord once. I’ve always enjoyed new things.” She gently undid the band on her Master’s hair, combing it loose with her fingers. “ _You’re_ the Master after all, maybe you should be more forceful.” She said so with such an arrogant tone that it sounded dismissive, but she still kissed Ritsuka’s neck and shoulders reverently.

With such obvious consent, Nobunaga felt no need to be cautious. She slowly trailed from shoulders to breast with the swagger and confidence she was known for. Now and then, she would flick her scarlet eyes up to look at Ritsuka’s face as she sunk her teeth into her breast. Beneath her lips and fingers, she felt her shudder with each movement. Yet still – Ritsuka ran a hand through Nobunaga’s hair, catching it in a weak fist.

“Is that so?” She asked breathily, trying to keep up. Once she got the words out, it only took her a moment to get to a conclusion. Her fistful of hair tightened ever so slightly. “Even a dangerous devil like you desires to be tamed sometimes, huh?” She flashed a smile that even Nobunaga would be proud of. A shock went down her spine as Ritsuka guided her head backwards, forcing Nobunaga to make eye contact with her.

Her Master widened her stance carefully and slowly without breaking eye contact. “If you can handle it,” Nobunaga replied patronizingly – like a challenge. All the while, Ritsuka released the bunch of hair she had to slide her palm to the crown of her Servant’s head. With light force, Nobunaga was pressed to her knees, nearly level with Ritsuka’s core.

“What? Do I need to order you?”

Excitement jolted through her. It wasn’t like Nobunaga was some kind of virgin or anything – she had plenty of kids and lovers to prove that – but this was an experience that was different. Even though she had done so little touching, Ritsuka’s cunt had gotten so wet and that only made her scent much stronger. With a slight urging through the fingers on her scalp, Nobunaga happily obliged. It took a moment to find the correct angle and position to kneel in, but once she found it, she never wanted to leave.

Nobunaga unabashedly buried her nose and lips into Ritsuka’s sopping cunt, sneaking out every trick she could find in her memory. It had been a long time since she enjoyed a woman, and longer still since she had the pleasure of having her face thoroughly fucked. Already, Ritsuka’s nails dug into her head and her hips bucked against her lips. Eager to please, Nobunaga put her hands against her Master’s hips to ground herself. However, the second she did, Ritsuka took a handful of hair and pulled her back.

“No hands,” She said firmly, despite her heavy breathing.

It was something almost comical. Nobunaga was a heroic spirit, or something like it anyway, with capabilities beyond humanity. She was one of the most feared warlords in all of Japanese history. She lived a life of betrayal and violence that would undoubtedly be misunderstood countless times during her life and after her death. Yet now, in the privacy of this Chaldea bedroom, she allowed herself to be commanded. After all, the sting on her scalp and the bizarreness of her situation was thrilling enough. She didn’t need a deeper reason than that.

“You’re so picky,” Nobunaga complained half heartedly, catching Ritsuka’s eyes. Her hands slid down and away, pinned neatly at her rear to ‘debase’ herself further. Yes, like this, it was as if she were in binds. “I come into your room, you force me on my knees and make me eat your pussy and I can’t even use my hands.” Her words were so flippant but empty, enjoying every second of what was happening. Once her hair was released, she was free to continue eating out.

Nobunaga loved to brag, and she was proud to say that her tongue skills was what kept Kicho happy with their marriage. Her jaw had good stamina in her lifetime, and it was even better now that she had a Servant’s body. Besides that, she had full control of her tongue, from the flat to the tip. It wasn’t long before Ritsuka was whining and pressing Nobunaga’s head between her legs – shamelessly grinding to reach climax. Her Master had fallen into a pit of breathy moans and nasal whimpers, and she dug her nails harder into Nobunaga’s skull.

“A–h,” Her throat strained as she came. No clever words, no dirty talk. Her body just shook and tightened.

Damn, if she kept looking like that Nobunaga would get too excited. As it was, still being in pants was becoming an issue. After being released, she remained on her knees – stuck in place by an insatiable lust growing ever so steadily from her core. She knew beneath the slacks and underwear, she was just as wet as the Master she just serviced. Before she knew it, her breath was short.

Ristuka sat on the edge of her bed, and posed as if she were doing her best impression of Nobunaga. Her leg over the knee, and toe pointed. She gave a memorized haughty look. Archer felt her mouth water. Slowly, but with purpose, she continued that arrogant persona – lifting her hand up and gestured with her fingers. It was unspoken. ‘ _Come here._ ’ Nobunaga wondered when this charade was going to end, she hoped not for awhile yet.

She got up and met with her Master; Ritsuka grasped a lock of her black hair and pulled Nobunaga’s face to meet hers. It was a filthy kiss that tasted of cunt and something more primal. Some women Nobunaga knew had a block against kissing after having been licked, but as she found out, Ritsuka had no such compunctions. Then just as quickly as she grabbed it, she let her hair loose again, and her hands slid down to the belt which kept Nobunaga’s pants up.

“You’re enjoying this dynamic, aren’t you?” Nobunaga teased pressing her hips out to allow Ritsuka to unbuckle her. “Worried you can’t handle being dominated by me?” She shivered into a sigh as her Master ran her palm over the curve of her ass while removing her pants. Down to sultry black panties, Nobunaga made sure to push her chest out roll her hips. It’s always about presentation, after all.

Despite that, though, Ritsuka gave a derisive laugh. “Isn’t this what _you_ want?” Taking her hands away from Nobunaga, she ran her fingertips along her body. Aside from the bruises left by Nobunaga on previous days, her pale skin was still blemished yellow and purple and a few wide patch bandages remained in places where the stitches had not healed. “Besides, with my body like this, I can’t have an untamed Devil,” her hand took another fistful of hair. “Running amok.”

They stayed like that for a minute. Ritsuka physically controlling Nobunaga with the slightest hold. It was a trance that could be so easily broken any time Archer wanted, but she didn’t. She waited breathlessly, feeling her pulse grow ever stronger with the passing seconds. If Ritsuka didn’t do anything soon, she felt like she would lose all control over herself. How long had it been since she experienced this kind of titillation? She licked her teeth, and found that she had been squeezing her thighs tightly since her pants had been removed.

Ritsuka let go of her hair and gently ran her hand against Nobunaga’s jaw, tucking her thumb beneath her chin and against her windpipe. It was just so simple, yet she compliantly sighed out in response. Her Master stood, now cupping Nobunaga’s neck with her palm, and turned the both of them. Then, with no force, she urged Archer onto the bed until her back was flat, and Ritsuka straddled her at the hip. Her hand never once leaving it’s position firmly against Nobunaga’s neck.

“Don’t tease me.” The Servant purred, rubbing her thighs together in search of some well needed friction. Ritsuka’s weight on her hips did not abate the throbbing in her cunt at all. “After all I did for you already, haven’t I earned a fucking, _Master_?”

“Ho–oh?” Ritsuka was quick to reply this time, none too gently squeezing Nobunaga’s throat as she swung herself off her hips. Her grip eased slowly as she positioned her thigh between her Servant’s legs and traced the center of her black panties teasingly. “You devils sure are vulgar, aren’t you?” Gently, Ritsuka pressed her fingers against the fabric. “You’re wet as a whore too.”

Nobunaga hummed in response, allowing herself to be mocked and probed. It was a game, after all. One she readily agreed to. “We are known for our lustful appetites.” She said back, grinding her hips into her Master’s hand. “C’mon, _Master_ , treat me like the whore you think I am.” She took one hand from the bed and secured it around Ritsuka’s wrist, making sure her Master would keep a firm hold on her neck.

Needing no more invitation, Ritsuka pulled aside Nobunaga’s panties and slid her fingers into her lips. Archer had become so sopping wet that the action alone warranted an indecently wet noise. Unabashedly, Nobunaga let out a mewl of pleasure without having her Master begin to work her. That being said, Ritsuka took no time in teasing. She ran her fingers the full length of her lips, swirling tantalizingly around Nobunaga’s firm clit. The last action always ending in sweet suffering – as Nobunaga tried to buck against her, Ritsuka squeezed her throat. _No, you don’t get that pleasure._ She would hiss, pressing her weight against her Servants poor aching pussy, always just shy of her goal.

It was only when they locked eyes again did Ritsuka go further. She moved her hand from Nobunaga’s neck and turned it against her cheek. A gesture too kind and gentle for their current situation, but it felt so appropriate. Despite herself, Nobunaga felt her heart strain. Ah, if she could articulate those feelings normally…

Ritsuka slid her middle finger inside her, and all thoughts were gone. It truly had been a long time since she was on the receiving end of the deal. Nobunaga had forgotten how good it felt to be filled up. Especially since her “injured” lover was hardly being gentle now that it came to fucking. Her Master pulled in close, dragging her wet cunt against Nobunaga’s thigh, and added a second finger.

Unlike Archer, who was being thoroughly fucked and now no longer vocal, Ritsuka could continue to speak. “Aren’t you some kind of Demon King? A couple fingers and I’ve got you humping my hand.” She whispered between panting, and her amber eyes just absolutely glittered. “Nobunaga-sama, don’t you have more shame than this?”

By then, Ritsuka had fit in a third finger and Nobunaga’s hands had sought out her Master’s slender shoulders. Her nails drug hot angry lines down Ritsuka’s back, trying to do anything to have her bring her to climax. While Nobunaga had no ability to be smug, she continued to get off to the degrading things that her Master whispered. When she sought out Ritsuka’s hair, nesting her fingers at the base, she was met with another assault. Ever so slightly, the fingers inside her curled, masterfully hitting the right spot with a savage vigor.

“Nng–!” She came like the fury of an angry god. Undoubtedly, she was drooling and shaking, making pitiful whimpers as Ritsuka slowly rode Nobunaga’s orgasm to it’s completion before removing her fingers. Shamelessly, she licked them clean, looking awfully smug as she did it. When she was done, Ritsuka nestled herself beside her Servant, both naked and sweating and covered in sex.

Wordlessly, they stayed like that for a long time. Neither really fell asleep, nor did they talk. At some point, Ritsuka pulled a sheet up to keep warm, but the room was filled with a comfortable silence.

**iii.**

“Why me, of all people?”

It wasn’t like Nobunaga was self-conscious. She was proud of herself, proud of what she could do and what she did. Nobunaga never regretted a thing – never felt like her attentions were wasted. But, she had to wonder. What interest did a modern magus have with her? Especially a Japanese one, who most definitely heard of her less than desirable reputation.

Ritsuka shrugged, as if that were a good answer. Then, after considering it some, she scratched her neck. “Even before all this, I admired your spirit. You weren’t ashamed of yourself, and even decided to accept your fate as a hated devil.” She answered furrowing her brow. “I met you. You say it can’t be helped! The betrayals, the hatred, the conspiracies. You accepted them all with stride. You’re as brilliant and dangerous as an open flame. I guess that makes me a moth, huh?”

Nobunaga just laughed. “And that made you want to be my woman? You have such odd taste!”

Her Master’s eyes glittered the same way she did before and she took Nobunaga’s hands. “Hey, Nobu,” she closed the distance almost faster than she could speak. The space between their faces closed too, lips barely touching. “I’m serious, you know?”

Their lips touched and it quickly dissolved into a fevered kiss.

“I know,” Nobunaga replied in a breath, and she flashed one of her signature grins. “So am I.”


	2. don't let them in, ran

**i.**

 

Oda Nobunaga was many things; covetous, possessive, and selfish made up only a small amount of them.

In life, when she wanted something, she just went out and took it. By military force, by political strong-arming, or by forcing someone else to cut their guts open. She was a woman of great aspirations, of extravagant parades and conquest. Only now, in the life beyond, did she have to consider her choices so thoroughly and over such inconsequential things. Like, for example, what did it matter that there was a curvy, sexy, giant of a woman leering at her Master? Sure, she and Ritsuka were in a sexual relationship, but neither of them had said any words of commitment.

Her teeth ground.

Neither of them had really mentioned anything in particular of exclusivity. They had expressed feelings of seriousness, to their relationship, but there was nothing binding at all. So it wouldn’t be weird for Ritsuka to entangle herself with all sorts of strange women. Hell, Nobunaga, herself, had a wife and two concubines. More lovers than that, if one considered all the women and men that she engaged with during her lifetime. So, there was nothing at all bothersome about having to share Ritsuka.

Her jaw hurt from all the grinding she had been doing, trying not to act out foolishly. Her Master was a woman of many, many servants, and many of them held her with affection. This Medusa, with her huge pillowy tits and her wide birthing hips, was one of them – undoubtedly. With Archer taking a sniper position, Ritsuka remained on the front lines, guarded by an array of her faithful – including the licentious Rider.

Nobunaga felt a headache growing, squeezing out perfectly timed shots against her Master’s enemies. None too shyly, she pressed her attacks between the narrow gaps of her allies, stealing the glory away from that mountain woman. This kind of selfish behavior was normal for her, she rationalized on one end. You don’t need to limit yourself either, said the other. She didn’t have to, she knew, but she did. And it was annoying, to her, that other women would dare prey upon her woman.

“Whoa, Archer,” Ritsuka yelped. When they were outside of her bedroom, they were formal. As of the moment, it was just another irritation in Nobunaga’s way. “Your fire is getting too close to the line, I need you to change positions or slow down.”

The strain behind her eyes had reached it’s breaking point, and she had to sigh and lower her gun. Ordering her around while behind so handsy with another woman, Nobunaga rubbed her jaw in response and got up. She was over thinking things. It was, actually, very much like her to do that – and to overreact in response. Remembering the fit she threw in her youth, tossing aside her father’s ashes, Nobunaga tried to remember. They hadn’t made any promises of exclusivity.

She shouldered her rifle and began the ascent to higher ground. The good thing about France in this time period was that the terrain was mostly unflattened, meaning there were many large nooks and crannies. Her movement drew attention from enemy archers – predictably so, since a blob of red and black stood out against fields of green. Besides, if this took the heat off pointmen, it wouldn’t be too bad. A small storm of arrows buried the ground around her, making it somewhat difficult to advance.

But not impossible. The day archaic technology would end her in a face to face battle had not yet come. Immersing herself within a wooded patch, Nobunaga leaned her back against a tree and removed her cloak – with enemies on the lookout for her, she didn’t want to raise their attention with the glare. She gently wrapped the red material over the top, protecting the metal from sunlight. Nobunaga turned to face the battlefield, pressing her stomach onto the earth, and lined up her shot.

A werewolf dropped dead to the right of Ritsuka, and Nobunaga sniffed smugly. “Is this to your satisfaction, Master?” She asked patronizingly. If it was any consolation to herself, her bad personality covered many things. It would be hard for anyone to pinpoint the real reason she was being troublesome. Although – it probably didn’t make herself feel any better at all.

There was a long pause before any other communications fed through before Ritsuka answered, “Yes, thank you, Archer.”

Honestly, she didn’t know where this began. Bizarrely enough (Why bizarrely, Nobunaga asked. Ritsuka didn’t have an answer) Medusa was a newer member of the Fujimaru armory. When she had just been summoned, she was cold, standoffish but pleasing to the eye. Ritsuka then took the time to work with her, ascending her up to a more desirable state. All the while, Nobunaga’s trips to Ritsuka’s bedroom had not lessened in frequency. Even now, they would probably return and have rough sex after this mission, but somehow Ritsuka’s interest in the gorgon had irked her.

Maybe it was because Medusa was many things Nobunaga was not. Tall, busty, cool tempered. The tall and busty part Nobunaga could fix, any body type and shape was not beyond her fingertips, but their personalities were so different that she felt bothered. Was a surly general not enough for Ritsuka? Jealousy was in her nature. She enjoyed owning things and keeping them to herself. Perhaps that was not clear between them. She found herself grinding her teeth again.

Matters were only made worse that this Medusa woman was actually somewhat aware of what was going on between Nobunaga and Ritsuka. She couldn’t tell if she was told, or simply placed two and two together – but there were many occasions where she caught Nobunaga’s eye with a sly and smug look. Placing a hand on Ritsuka’s shoulder, and running it across her back. Modest flirting – “have I captivated your heart, Master?” Right in her vicinity. Even on one occasion, Medusa had tried to interrupt one of their trysts, saying that whatever Nobunaga could’ve wanted could wait.

Before this mission, Medusa had said so. “Our Master is so cute,” She said with a smile. “Would you mind if I ate her up?”

 _Of course she would mind!_ The throbbing of her jaw and headache effected her shots, though only slightly. She withdrew her gun, pressing her thumb and forefinger against the bridge of her nose. Damn it, she was the jealous type, but she had always thought of herself as pretty damn fair. At least to those in her good graces. She had made no promises, so why should she expect them from other people?

She said she’d be Nobunaga’s woman though, didn’t she?

They had returned from the mission a few hours after that. Ritsuka had her mind on a certain goal that day, and was determined to not leave France until it was satisfied. Dirty, cut up and tired, Ritsuka should’ve looked less content with the situation on return – but a handful of runes kept her smile up. Nobunaga did not begrudge that kind of behavior, really, proudly rushing at famed treasure was something she was familiar with. But just like with that Matsunaga fellow and his teapot, Nobunaga knew that she had to be mindful of those hunts.

Her Master turns the carved runes in to Da Vinci, who assures her that they will have some good use in the coming future, and the myriad of Servants which joined her on her missions scattered to their own business. There she went to Archaman, who cleaned the wolf claws on her person, and placed bandages where needed. Be more careful with your body! He exclaimed as Ritsuka winced away from the alcohol soaked cotton ball. Nobunaga stood in the hallway, arms crossed. In her mind, it was the duty of her servants to protect her from harm. Those on the frontlines had failed.

When Ritsuka exited the room, she came upon Archer. The relatively empty hallway usually meant something risqué or heated, so on habit, Ritsuka leaned on to give her a kiss. Nobunaga just pressed a finger against one of the gashes on her cheek.

“Keep up this senselessness and I’ll revoke your privileges to fight on the frontlines.” Nobunaga said, replacing the finger with a gentle rub of the thumb. The touch, even through gloves, made Ritsuka dizzy. Eager for more, she leaned against Nobunaga’s palm, and the action made Archer so content, she almost forgot she was annoyed. Nobunaga took her hand back, rubbing the thumb and forefinger together, and looked away with a pout.

For her part, Ritsuka seemed genuinely confused. When she couldn’t make two and two together, she simply gave up. There would be more time later to find out the answer, after all, and she needed to wash the sweat off her body and get into fresh clothes. Nobunaga recognized that the bath rooms in Chaldea were “Japanese” style. It was more modern than what she was used to, but accepted it. There was a drain at the center, and showers to wash oneself. A bath could be drawn further back, to soak after washing.

It was not the first time they had bathed together. It happened quite a bit after they became physical. It was just easier to bathe with another person there, and since Ritsuka was a magnet for injuries, she sometimes needed the help. Nobunaga remained sullen through some of it, and once they had both settled in the bath, Ritsuka finally spoke up.

“You’re irritated,” she said and gestured to her jaw. “I can tell because you grind your teeth.”

Furrowing her brow, Nobunaga ran her hand along her sore jaw. “I do that, don’t I?” She muttered, as if her own mouth had betrayed her this time. This, however, was not the answer Ritsuka was looking for. Not to be ignored, she moved from her side of the tub over, straddling Nobunaga’s legs beneath the water. She sank slowly, water lapping off the edge of the tub, and settled down on her Servant’s lap.

“Being wishy-washy is also unlike you,” she said, running her fingers over Archer’s breasts. Leaning in, she steals a kiss without much effort.

Nobunaga pressed in, opening her mouth and sinking her teeth onto Ritsuka’s tongue when it came in. Not one to shy about pain, her Master pressed further, fiercely hungry for more. Her fingers sought after Nobunaga’s skin, leaving bright angry scratches on her chest. Even if they were light, in the bath, they’d stay but Ritsuka never restrained herself when it came to these things.

“You’re my woman,” Nobunaga said. Mincing words would make this whole thing more complicated. They had broken the kiss for not a second when she said so, and immediately, it got a reaction. Just not the one she was expecting. Ritsuka colored a deep shade of red, from her shoulders to her scalp, shyly looking down. Archer narrowed her eyes. They had sex routinely, so this level of coyness was incomprehensible.

“Yeah,” she replied modestly, putting her fingers together. “I am.”

An urge rose from Nobunaga’s gut. Something animal, natural. The more this demure side of Ritsuka showed, the more possessive she became over her. The more imagining another person pawing over her irritated her. Nobunaga definitely believed herself to be the jealous type. She sought out Ritsuka’s shoulders, and ran her hand against the back of her neck. “I’m selfish,” Nobunaga said, pulling her Master close. “I won’t share you.”

With their wet naked bodies together, she could feel the heaving of Ritsuka’s chest. The tenseness in her back. These were things Nobunaga knew she did when she was turned on, symptoms of her lust. – She could also feel Ritsuka’s throbbing heartbeat. “As if that wasn’t what I wanted all along,” Ritsuka replied, breathy and excited. As long as she was captive like this, Nobunaga reasoned, it would be fine.

They stayed like that for a bit and separated. Each going their separate ways for the evening. Nobunaga knew it – she was the selfish type.

**ii.**

Their venture into Rome was enlightening. Nobunaga had always wanted to visit the world, to conquer it one day, and what she knew of Rome was why. At it’s greatest, the Empire was vast, and it maintained that control through military might. A tight professional army was what made Rome powerful – but this singularity did not have Rome in it’s greatest presence. It was still a pleasurable trip to go on, and getting to introduce professional soldiers to the future of firearms. The greatest warriors in the world, driven to the knees by a single bullet.

She was almost having too much fun. If all singularities were this fun, Nobunaga would have to insist on joining Ritsuka every time. At the forefront of their merry band, this time, was the portly Gaius Julius Caesar. He was in great spirits, and as they grew closer to Massilia, he had personal stories for each landmark. Folding his arms over his chest, his loud voice filled the air. Nobunaga, being an arrogant ruler herself, wasn’t super thrilled with listening to someone elses victories. But that wasn’t the issue.

Due to projections saying there would be Riders in the area, Ritsuka has once again brought a servant with no boundaries. Naturally, Nobunaga did not like assassins by default. She had a reputation for hating ninja, and one of her sons even led a failure of an attempt on Iga. However, there was an unspoken edge to having them around with certain enemies. They all had airs about them, especially the women, and were seductresses by nature. Nobunaga had made some compromises, logically, knowing that this was a key point in their job description.

But they weren’t on the hunt to assassinate their _Master_. Without thinking, she had begun grinding her teeth, watching the Kōmō woman press against Ritsuka. Unlike Medusa, though, who appeared to have genuine feelings, the Kōmō just seemed to enjoy getting a reaction. Her large, nearly bare, breasts pressed against Ritsuka’s arm and she was purring none too appropriate things into her ear. They didn’t agree on exclusivity, originally, but Nobunaga thought she made her point clear. She wasn’t in the business of sharing.

At least the expression on Ritsuka’s face, one that screamed ‘ _help!_ ’ made her feel a little better. With her smug giggle, Mata Hari showed no signs of stopping soon. That brought yet another problem. Immediately to Nobunaga’s right was the final servant on the expedition. This Saber was a conundrum in and of herself. Visually, she was very similar to Artoria, and on closer inspection, she was very well the same person. Yet no one could argue that the white clad maiden beside her, whose face was washed red from the sight of her Master with Mata Hari, was inherently different. We call her Lily, said Ritsuka once. She is Artoria who has yet to become king.

“They’re so intimate,” Lily whispered, voice stricken as if she were seeing something lewd. “Do you think they’re…?”

Grind, grind, grind. Without realizing it, Nobunaga had begun wringing the hilt of Heshikiri Hasebe. How can one woman, without an empire of wealth or status, be so popular with so many people? If it wasn’t a sultry Rider, it was a seductive Assassin. If it wasn’t the demure Shielder, it was a youthful Saber. It was nearly impossible to keep eyes off of her woman, considering the multitude of servants she had summoned. When she didn’t provide an answer, Lily turned her attention to Archer. The malicious aura ebbing off of her must’ve been palpable, because Lily’s expression turned blue a moment.

“Hii–h,” She shivered, “Archer…-san, are you alright?”

Nobunaga flexed her hand, knuckle joints popping. “Just thinking about teacups.”

Upon reaching their destination, the servants formed a circle with Ritsuka at the center. Archaman came over the holoscreen, and the two of them exchanged information then relayed it in battle plan. Ritsuka always had a terribly serious expression when talking strategy, and it made her look several years older, as she pointed and chastised. Only when the meeting came to a close did Nobunaga have a real objection to the whole thing. It was a simple one, but one that she expected would be met with some argument.

“Archaman says that projections predict there will be two servants in this battle,” Nobunaga said folding her arms over her chest. “I’m going to have to insist you stay back on the firing line, _Master_.”

Anger, and possibly embarrassment, caused Ritsuka’s face to flush red. She favored commanding from the frontlines, even if it was a risk to her health. Feeding instructions from the communications system had an imperceptible delay which could make or break a situation. Despite, however, knowing their Master had such feelings on it, Caesar and Lily exchanged glances and shrugged.

“I have to concur,” Caesar said after a moment, “while I’d rather not be in the frontlines myself, it’ll do little good to have you injured in my home territory. There is merit in viewing a battlefield from above.”

A master of strategy, and the greatest hero of Rome – Nobunaga did not know if he said that much for his own reasons or if he was being genuine. Either way, met with opposition from two sides, Ritsuka pursed her lips tightly. No doubt she was trying to think of ways to overcome their arguments, but when none arrived, her shoulders sagged noticeably.

“Alright, Archer and I will find high ground. On signal, Saber team, advance. Assassin, hold back until signal or until enemy Servants hit the battlefield.” Reluctantly, she put out her starting positions, “I won’t be nearby to cast emergency spells, so fight safe.”

Rome, in this era, had been worked by hand for centuries. Cities had the land worked, and the roads pounded. In order to get the best sight of the battlefield, they found an unwatched portion of the city’s battlements. High above the city, with the sun beating down on them, Nobunaga finally decided on a spot, which had the best line of sight combined with the lowest foot traffic. Settling down onto her knee, Nobunaga lined the field up with the sights. On the ground to her right, Heshikiri Hasebe sat just in case their position became compromised.

“Clear,” Archer said and Ritsuka gave the signal.

The assault began shortly there after. The combined force of Caesar and Lily was more than enough force to push back the legionaries which were sent out to engage. Those that had an ounce of sense stumbled when they saw the Mighty Caesar himself, and the ones without sense got cut down even quicker. Only occasionally, Nobunaga had to press a round out, burrowing nearly through the enemy helms.

“I’m jealous,” Nobunaga said after a minute, not looking away from the enemies below. “I don’t care for others having that kind of interest in you.”

Ritsuka sighed behind her. “Is that why you pulled me back here?” She asked, sullen. However, she didn’t let Archer have a chance to respond. “No, that’s selfish. You said before, didn’t you?”

Her finger squeezed on the trigger, the second wave of enemies had arrived. Nobunaga pretended like it was her plan all along – when in reality, she was just acting out of her current feelings. “I don’t recall giving you permission to get injured so much,” she replied hotly, waving a hand out to clear the smoke. “You’re not like us Servants, it’s much harder to fix you if you break.”

Without warning, Ritsuka embraced her from behind. Her nose and cheeks were buried in Nobunaga’s black hair. Despite this pose, Nobunaga remained on point, focused on the battle at hand. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you? I was trying to avoid it too.” Ritsuka murmured into Archer’s back. Her hold tightened.

“I love you.”

**iii.**

Fujimaru Ritsuka was a worrier by nature. Every relationship she had ever been in had ended for various reasons – but the most common complaint was that she was clingy. She got too involved too fast, got too caught up in passion too easily. When she joined up with Chaldea, and became a magus, she promised herself that she would become a new person. Someone cool, and respectful. When she met Oda Nobunaga, she recited that to herself hundreds of times. She went over what she knew about history, what she could glean from talking to her. If she wanted a relationship, and it seemed like Nobunaga was interested, she’d have to play it cool.

Somewhere along the way, her efforts to seem flexible and agreeable turned into a weird whirlwind of jealousy. Not that it didn’t flatter her to no end, that the fiery, disagreeable, selfish woman she fell for was getting irritated by others flirting with her. God, those smoldering red eyes fixed on her left her feeling breathless and horny. But she didn’t want to force it. Would she be forcing it? Nobunaga had a wife and no less than two concubines. Exclusivity would seem stifling.

She hadn’t expected the kind of reaction she got. At the time, Nobunaga didn’t react much. They were focused on the singularity, after all, and the mission came first. It was when they returned, and her nerves were through the roof, that she got a response. They had not been in Chaldea for a moment before Nobunaga’s gloved hand grabbed her by the jaw and drew her into a kiss. She had met these lips many times, and in many different ways, but this time – She couldn’t help but whimper helplessly as she tried to get more.

All the while, the surrounding viewers had their own reactions. Disappointment from Assassin, although it was probably fake. Embarrassment from Lily, who covered her eyes immediately. Roman complained about PDA in the workplace. But in that moment, with Nobunaga’s tongue in her mouth, none of that really reached her ears. Especially when the hand on her jaw left and began to toy with the buckle on the front of her uniform.

“N · O!” Roman separated them, red faced. His lips were tightened into a line, and his expression was dizzy. “Any more will have to be in privacy! These Chaldea walls are for us lonely single people!” Despite how sad that sounded, Roman seemed very confidant in what he was saying.

Pushed aside by Roman’s interjection, Ritsuka could finally see Nobunaga’s face. Red tipped her ears and nose, and she visibly sulked. Oh – Ritsuka never thought she’d see such a cute expression on her warlord. It wasn’t like Nobunaga never pouted or sulked, it was a common thing actually. They were all cute, too. But this one was unique. It was almost, almost, vulnerable. Her Servants eyes fixed on her.

“Bedroom,” Her single word command turned that cute expression sultry.

Ritsuka had never bathed herself so fast in her life. It was a pain she had to do it anyway, but the Mediterranean weather was humid and unforgiving. Honestly, that Nobunaga was that interested in her despite the way she smelled was amazing. Nearly tripping over her own feet, she scrambled from the bath to her designated bedroom. Outside, Nobunaga waited with her hands on her hips.

“You made me wait,” she said and when the door opened to the room, her overwhelming presence pushed Ritsuka inside. “Say it again.”

Her heart leapt into her throat, and she almost forgot how to speak. Nobunaga shut the door behind them and began removing her gloves, carelessly dropping them to the floor as she advanced. “I love you.” Ritsuka repeated, stiff and transfixed by Nobunaga, who slowly continued to disrobe. Her cloak fell to the floor in one unbuttoning motion.

“You mean that?” Nobunaga asked and her tone made it feel like it was an interrogation. Her hands came up to unbutton the front of her uniform. When it sat open at the still buckled belt at her waist, Nobunaga tilted her head, and focused her eyes on her Master. “Why?”

It wasn’t like Nobunaga lacked self confidence. That was something everyone knew. It wasn’t like she needed confirmation of her value. The lilt of her voice did not make it sound as though she was searching for any of those things. It was almost defensive. It was possessive. She had a right to that knowledge, at least, that’s what it felt like. Ritsuka swallowed.

“You’re selfish, possessive, violent, and intentionally contrary,” Ritsuka began, and she squared her shoulders. “You don’t get along well with others, because you’re arrogant.”

She paused, and let that hang in the air a moment. “You are so honest though. You aren’t afraid to show how you feel. You don’t mourn over your failures, and don’t even see them as that. Every day, you stand up and walk over lesser successes to go forward. You take and you take and you take, but you don’t neglect what belongs to you,” Ritsuka pressed her fingers together. “I said you were like fire once. Everything about you is consuming and destructive, but you’re bright and _alive_.”

While she struggled to let out her heartfelt feelings, Nobunaga watched her as carefully as a hawk. As if she were listening to each word, and memorizing it, looking for faults and errors. Despite all that, though, when Ritsuka finished, she just laughed. Her hands went out, and cupped Ritsuka’s jaw, and pulled her close. “You have odd taste,” She said, but everyone knew. Nobunaga liked odd things.

They kiss and while neither was a stranger to the action, the pressure behind this one was different. All pretenses for chastity had long since left the room, and as their tongues sought purchase, their hands began seeking skin. Ritsuka was the lucky one, or at least as she considered it that way. With the front of Nobunaga’s uniform already undone, she could press her hands against her breasts. Due to circumstances, Nobunaga could be any size and shape she desired – busty or flat, and anything in between. Ritsuka wondered if her breasts changed sizes since they began having sex, trying to tailor herself to what would get the best reaction.

“Hh–” Nobunaga whimpered as Ritsuka caught her nipples between her fingers. It was that kind of reaction which excited her. Breaking off from the kiss, Ritsuka went in for the kill. None too gently, she sank her teeth into Nobunaga’s neck, not bothering to worry about injury, much less leaving any marks. A Servant’s body could withstand something this trivial, she figured, but she still released the skin and lapped at the fresh bruise. Although Archer had made headway in undoing the front of her shirt, Ritsuka didn’t have that kind of patience. Her nose and the tip of her tongue made a trail down Nobunaga’s chest, focusing on her breasts that were too perfectly white.

“And you call me the violent one,” Nobunaga commented, or at least tried to, as her Master bit and sucked on each of her tits. The sensation, although not truly strong enough to hurt her, still stung enough to stutter her words. If that embarrassed her it didn’t show, rather her hands found Ritsuka’s orange hair instead. Taking a handful of the hair from the back of her head, Nobunaga pulled her Master back.

“Stop,” She commanded her with a single word. Ritsuka pressed out her lower lip, but waited patiently for the next order. Her hair was released and she watched as Nobunaga undressed. Without her coat, the red bruises forming on her breasts seemed even more evident, and when she stepped out of her pants, Ritsuka began to feel restless. The wait was unbearable. She was hungry for more.

“You were honest with me, so I shall give you my response.” Nobunaga said, naked but for that damnable hat. Ritsuka let herself be guided to the bed, and sat down, and watched as her warlord undressed her with impeccable precision. Her long pale finger finished unbuckling the front of the Chaldea uniform, and pulled down the zipper beneath. All the while, she teased her with fleeting sultry glances.

When she was done, Ritsuka was completely naked and flush with excitement. Wordlessly, but with the smugest grin possible, Nobunaga urged her against the bed and sat on her thighs. Ritsuka squirmed, feeling her Archer’s wet cunt pressing against her, and whined as Nobunaga set her hat on her face. Before she had the chance to argue it, though, she found her tits being assaulted. With her face hidden beneath the hat, she couldn’t see or be prepared when Nobunaga leaned down and bit her.

“Aahh f–” Ritsuka clawed at the sheets, the pain only making the throbbing between her thighs more unbearable. It seemed like Nobunaga didn’t care, however; catching a nipple between her teeth, Nobunaga reached out and pressed the hat further into Ritsuka’s face. Why she insisted on doing that, it was unclear, because it did little to muffle her Master’s moans. Upon releasing the abused nipple, Nobunaga lapped at it teasingly making sure the bite and saliva would leave it sensitive to the air. She switched sides, making sure to leave fresh bite bruises all along her.

Slowly, with purpose, her mouth trailed downwards, until she had to shift position to keep going. Ritsuka shuddered with a groan, her hands shooting out from the sheets to find something to hold. Finding Nobunaga’s arms, which kept her supported above Ritsuka’s body, she grasped her wrists tightly.

“I’ll conquer every bit of you,” Her nose and lips led a line from Ritsuka’s belly button and through her coarse pubic hair. Nobunaga kissed her lips, which were hot and slick with anticipation. Ritsuka shuddered with relief feeling her daimyo’s tongue slip out and begin lapping her up. Ah – she knew Nobunaga had quite a bit of experience. Between a wife and concubines, to the multitude of lovers male and female alike. But it never ceased to amaze her how fucking good she was at it.

One tongue, no matter how skilled, should not be capable of doing this. She immediately knew the exact ratio to toy with her aching clit to keep her from getting overwhelmed. Exactly how much pressure she needed to run her teeth along it, the right places to press into when teasing her entrance. Nobunaga was truly a devil, because she could keep Ritsuka on edge forever, turning her into a writhing whelp of lust.

Her hips jerked and her leg began to shake uncontrollably. “I…I-I,” Incapable of coherent speech, Ritsuka buried her nails into Nobunaga’s wrists, undoubtedly to the point of bleeding. Despite her impending orgasm, though, Archer stopped completely and pulled away. She wrenched free her Master’s nails and took those hands to pin them above her head. Worked up, and devastated, Ritsuka almost cried. “W–…why?” She truly, honestly whimpered.

Finally, the hat was lifted from her face and set aside. Her eyes, then, adjusted to the light where she could see Nobunaga’s face. A single finger slid between her lips, and it was lightning down her spine. She was _so close_ but one finger was _not nearly enough_. A pathetic whine escaped her, trying hopelessly to rut against the finger.

“Say it again,” Nobunaga commanded. For a moment, Ritsuka didn’t understand the request.

“I love you.” She answered quickly, which earned her a sloppy, cunt flavored kiss. However, that wasn’t all Nobunaga wanted. When they parted, she went to her ear and whispered,

“Now beg.”

The change was so fast it gave her whiplash. One moment, it was sweet, the other – the single teasing finger against her cunt was driving her mad. She searched her brain for anything that would satisfy Nobunaga. The only thing she could come up with, and would leave her mouth was simple, “ _Please_.”

However, that was not enough. It wasn’t even enough to warrant a response, Nobunaga just watched her with mild entertainment as she ran her finger in circles around her clit. The teasing left her desperate. “ _Please, please, please_ ,” it hadn’t gotten her anywhere before, but she had to say something as she thought. Maybe she would get rewarded for effort anyway. “C-conquer me, _please_. I wanna be _yours_.”

That was it, Ritsuka hissed in satisfaction as that lone finger flicked her clit. “Took you long enough,” Nobunaga seemed smug, and without warning, slid the offending finger inside her Master. She should’ve expected it, but the surprise came in a wave of pain and pleasure. But, as she had said many times, Nobunaga was quite skilled at this. Her thrusts were agonizingly slow, coupled with a gentle circling, which eased the tension the surprise left.

Her hips bucked, trying to get more out of every little thrust. Nobunaga didn’t even need to say it, she knew. Ritsuka was humping her hand like a slut, insatiable and begging for more. Her red eyes, which burned into her, said every filthy thing and more. She didn’t even need to waste her breath. – And that was what made her even more excited. What kind of person had she become that she would imagine being told that?

Even those thoughts left her mind when Nobunaga added a second finger. She was long since prepared for it this time. Hoping for it, even. A moan of delight left her, and she gripped the pillows above her head for support. Nobunaga was drawn closer, her muscles tightened from the force of her thrusts. “You want it, don’t you?” She teased, and pressed in a third finger. Ritsuka whimpered in pleasure, the fullness leaving her dizzy.

“But if I let you come, you’ll be mine alone.” Careless to her own words, her hand kept pumping in her, edging Ritsuka painfully close. It didn’t help that the promise left her more eager, rocking herself into Nobunaga’s hand even more forcefully. In response, Nobunaga clicked her tongue and pressed herself in all the way to the knuckle. No matter how Ritsuka writhed, she couldn’t get more.

This mounted her frustration, and tears had begun to well in her eyes. Nobunaga began to laugh, lightly curling her fingers – only so much to tease. “Look at that face, you’re so mad,” her voice was excited, as if she couldn’t contain herself. “Do you want to be mine so badly?” This came as a purr, and her free hand left Ritsuka’s wrists to cup her cheek, pressing her thumb into her mouth. Ritsuka bit down on Nobunaga’s thumb, none too gently. With a little effort, Nobunaga got past her teeth and pressed down on her tongue. Without instruction, Ritsuka shamelessly sucked, locking eye contact with her Servant.

Nobunaga then began to fuck her in earnest. Ritsuka thought she was getting it good before, but now she was practically ascending. Gagged by Nobunaga’s thumb in her mouth, her coos of pleasure came out strangled and drool came unbidden down her jaw. Nobunaga’s hand at her cunt, however, was as hard and precise as a firing line. Every time her palm and knuckle came into contact with her, Ritsuka’s hips jerked and shuddered. Even while incapable of speech, her body begged and begged for Nobunaga’s attention.

Once again, she felt her orgasm building up. Fearful of being held back a third time, Ritsuka bit hard on Nobunaga’s thumb and clawed at her bed. Maybe she could get the chance to force it before she was stopped. But at the same time, she reasoned with herself – it felt so good to be handled so roughly. Until now, Nobunaga had allowed her to take the lead. Even when they did swap positions, she had never been fucked so senselessly.

She could not speak, she could barely think. All Ritsuka wanted was to fuck her. Break her.

“Do you want to come for me?” Nobunaga asked, and it was clear she had no intention of getting a response since she didn’t free Ritsuka’s tongue. “You should feel so lucky that you’ve pleased me tonight.”

This time, she did not stop to tease or demand begging. Ritsuka was certain enough that her body was doing that for her. Nobunaga just pleasured her, fucked her, broke her with such passionate strokes, that tears of joy fell freely from Ritsuka’s eyes. In that moment, she was fully incapable of existing without Nobunaga there, coaxing her further and further into madness.

Ritsuka didn’t just shudder when she came, she shook. Her body was completely at her Servant’s mercy, and she had lost all ability to verbalize the extent of it. She could not even find whimpers and moans to let out, just guttural noises, and tears. Her eyes crossed, and for nearly a minute, the wave of the orgasm ripped through to her core. Gently, Nobunaga rode her out without any need for instruction. When it was over, Archer withdrew her thumb, and replaced it with her three soaked, wrinkled, fingers which Ritsuka obediently sucked.

She leaned forward, lips against the shell of Ritsuka’s ear.

“I love you too.”

**iv.**

In the baths, they washed each other. Their bruise and bite covered bodies the attention of the few servants lingering in the bath. While the extent of their relationship was kind of an open secret, Jeanne covered her face from their boldness. She had only wanted a relaxing soak, not become privy to her Master’s sex life.

“I think I should call you Ranmaru,” Nobunaga said confidently. Content with the high amount of praise that meant. Ritsuka knew, even in Japan, no one called their children that for fear of trying to compare to Ranmaru’s lifetime of loyalty – and satisfying his master. Still, she shot her servant an ugly look.

“I would rather you didn’t.” She groaned, trying not to imagine herself as a young stary eyed page.

However, Nobunaga seemed content, “No, no, you see it’s the best name for you. It’s good for him too, for you see, I believe on many accounts, you have surpassed him, Ranmaru.”

“Please, don’t call me that.”

“You see, I find vaginas much more pleasing that penises. He could not help what he was, but that does give you the advantage, my Ranmaru.”

“ _Stop._ ”

Jeanne just wanted a nice bath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kōmō: an archaic term for the Dutch. Portuguese traders were called Nanban (lit. southern barbarians), however, the dutch were called kōmō (red hair)
> 
> the stunning conclusion to this smut.  
> any continuation of this pairing will be in another work.  
> it was hard, because i don't imagine nobunaga being especially love-y dove-y  
> but i do imagine her as the awful jealous type, imagining things this and there  
> which sucks because servants fall in love with you like its going out of style
> 
> thank you guys for so many reads and kudos ; u ;  
> i haven't written fanfiction in years, and the response has really given me spark  
> it may not be much, but i want to write a lot of f/f and i want to share it

**Author's Note:**

> as a big, big fan of samurai, nobunaga in particular, i wanted to do something that would reflect that some. not a whole lot, but give nobu a look and a thought that went with fate canon but also touched a bit of reality too. she is my favorite servant, with only tamamo in second place, and i'm eagerly awaiting the GUDAGUDA event in NA so i can bring her home.


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